


One Day We'll Be Fine

by hernameinthesky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dating, Developing Relationship, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 10:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5453225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hernameinthesky/pseuds/hernameinthesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malia’s just standing there, staring out at the sea. Lydia can’t make out her expression in the dark, but her body looks relaxed and she pushes her hair away from her face absentmindedly, either not feeling or not caring about the cold for once.</p><p>“What did you want to show me?” Lydia says impatiently, thinking longingly of the bonfire they just left, of the dancing crowd and comforting warmth of the fire.</p><p>Malia turns to look at her and Lydia thinks she’s smiling. “This.”</p><p>OR</p><p>Malia wants to show Lydia something important from her past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Day We'll Be Fine

**Author's Note:**

> I don't think there's any warnings needed, but as always if you disagree just let me know and I'll add them.

A deserted stretch of beach, surrounded on three sides by high, jagged cliffs. Two ways out – up the steep path Lydia is currently trying to navigate down in four-inch heels, or into the inky black ocean. It’s impossible to tell where the water stops and the sky begins; Lydia only knows for sure that the sky is above her because occasionally the clouds part to reveal a sliver of a moon.

Even without the vast knowledge Lydia has about what comes out after dark, she’d know this is a bad idea. 

But Malia’s a few steps in front of her, her fingers warm where they cling to Lydia’s, and she keeps glancing back and smiling. So she follows Malia down the path, trying to step into her footprints because Malia hasn’t stumbled once. It’s times like these when the coyote in her is most apparent. She doesn’t think of the danger, doesn’t think of bringing a torch or telling Lydia she’ll need to get more appropriate shoes, nothing material ever seems to occur to her. Lydia decides it’s definitely more annoying than charming the third time her heel slips and her ankle twists painfully.

“Wait a minute,” she huffs, grabbing Malia’s shoulder to balance herself and bending each leg up in turn to pull off her shoes. She shoves them into her bag, then pushes at the small of Malia’s back to indicate she can carry on now.

The sand is cold against Lydia’s bare feet when they finally get to the beach, shifting under her soles and squelching up between her toes. She shivers as a gust of wind blows grains against her ankles, and pulls her cardigan tighter around her. Malia’s just standing there, staring out at the sea. Lydia can’t make out her expression in the dark, but her body looks relaxed and she pushes her hair away from her face absentmindedly, either not feeling or not caring about the cold for once.

“What did you want to show me?” Lydia says impatiently, thinking longingly of the bonfire they just left, of the dancing crowd and comforting warmth of the fire.

Malia turns to look at her and Lydia thinks she’s smiling. “This.”

Lydia looks around, but all she sees is sand and sea. “Is there something important about this place?” she says finally, shivering again.

Malia steps closer, and her body is a shield against the wind that’s slowly picking up now. It makes the backs of Lydia’s legs and neck feel even colder, but she lets Malia move closer still, lets her curve her hands around Lydia’s hips. It’s still new, this thing they have, new enough that even this simple touch makes Lydia’s heart leap into her throat.

“My parents used to bring me and my sister here for Christmas,” Malia says quietly. “We’d stay in a cottage up there,” she nods over Lydia’s shoulder, back up the cliff they just came down, “and we’d all work together in the morning to make dinner, then bring it down here in a picnic basket with our presents.”

Lydia smiles gently and loops her arms around Malia’s neck, leaning into her. Malia takes her weight without blinking and smiles back.

“I feel like I’m expecting presents,” she admits.

“You associate this place with them,” Lydia says. “Like how Scott finds the smell of the hospital comforting because his mom smells like that, and I expect coffee whenever I smell baking bread because when I was a kid my dad let my drink it if I helped him bake.”

Malia hums. “’s weird.”

Lydia laughs quietly. “Yeah, it is.”

She hesitates, then stretches up on her toes and kisses Malia, one soft press of lips before she pulls away again.

“There’s your present,” she says. She regrets the words as soon as she says them, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the cheesiness of it.

Malia blinks at her, then smiles slowly. “Is that something we do now?”

Lydia shrugs, trying to flatten her mouth in something unconcerned. “If you like.”

Malia leans down and kisses her again. “I definitely like it.”


End file.
